Debt
by AletheiaFelinea
Summary: Why The Pearl came back to Port Royal for Jack?


Written in 2011 and for the first time posted on my LJ. I'll be happy to put the direct link as soon as FF's editor stops messing with it...  
>Betaed by triskellion (LJ)<br>**Disclaimer:** Disney's.

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><p>The sea shimmered. The sun shined. The sky looked as if it decided to deny its acquaintance with any storms.<p>

Anamaria looked quite the contrary.

The crew, a dozen men (and one parrot), in tacit agreement were avoiding the quarterdeck. Since yesterday, the Captain looked as if she urgently needed something. Like a target for that pistol tucked in her belt.

The mainsail luffed. That is, it flapped and crackled a bit louder than it had so far today, louder than it had yesterday and the day before. Oddly enough, no one was inclined to ask by what miracle, or rather what curse, it had been luffing all this time, and in a good wind. No matter how the lines were pulled, how the rudder shifted, the mainsail continued to flap. Anamaria send it a glare which should have burned a hole through that damned … ah, right, not damned canvas anymore. Nevertheless, it seemed that it wouldn't make a big difference if the mainsail …hell, the whole mainmast! …just burned away.

On the calm sea, in the favourable current and with the fair wind, The Black Pearl waded through lazy waves like a flat-bottomed river scow loaded with coal.

Anamaria gritted her teeth and turned her eyes… to catch between sails a glimpse of the bowsprit aiming for the far horizon. She couldn't see the figurehead, it was too low under the bow. Then why was it she'd almost swear that she saw the sunlight playing on the bleached wood of the bird? The Captain gritted her teeth again. A bit of proper carpentry would be of use on this bucket. Less dead weight, more speed… Her head snapped up as a crack resounded through the air.

A snapped rope fluttered in the wind, tangling around shrouds. Anamaria gripped the helm. "He deserves nothing better!" she hissed.

She looked around, but the nearest tar was running already. The rope avoided reaching hands for some minutes, but eventually was seized upon and tied in place. Anamaria didn't spare another thought for the lines as all her attention was locked in a struggle with the helm that was now rocking and stubbornly swinging about as if in an adverse current. She cursed nastily, forcing around the obstinate wheel with effort. "He'll get his, I mean it!" she snarled. "He stole my…!"

She cut off when The Pearl shuddered as if under a storm's blow. The wood creaked, the keel groaned deeply somewhere in bilges. A few pirates dropped what they were holding. Gibbs cautiously retreated under the stairs, but the Captain managed to notice all the same how he reached for his inseparable hip flask.

Anamaria opened her mouth, then shut it again, staring at her own hands gripping the smoothed wood of the helm. "But I hadn't… It's not… He promised me…"

She sighed, yielding to sudden tiredness. Then she rested her forehead on the curve of the wheel between her hands, looking at scores and notches collected on the old wood over many pirate years. The wheel wasn't pulling anymore.

"I know," she muttered. "You're a stubborn one, eh?" She shut her eyes. "I know, me too."

She raised her head and looked at the main deck. A few heads turned hurriedly away. But this time she also met a few looks, though they were all wary.

"Mr. Gibbs!" she shouted.

From under the stairs came the sound of someone choking, and after that a weak, "Aye, Cap…cough…cough…"

"Mr. Gibbs, a new course!"

This time, the "Aye!" was much louder, though preceded by a moment of the stunned silence. Anamaria craned her neck over the wheel and tried to look under the stairs.

"Not gonna ask what course, Mr. Gibbs?"

The grizzled head appeared warily over the top step. "Um, yessi… What course, Cap'n?"

Anamaria waved towards the main deck, already whirling with agitated bustling. "You should ask them, mebbe," she huffed. "They all seem to know."

A while later, The Black Pearl was heeling leeward, swiftly cutting through waves. Maybe it was because the mainsail stopped luffing. Or maybe the way the crew was suddenly so zealous. Some of them even began to sing. Probably to drown out the parrot.

Anamaria shoved wind-tugged hair out of her eyes and rested her cheek on her hand.

"He can owe me more than a boat, then," she muttered.

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><p>Bonus after-credits-scene! ;)<p>

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><p>"The rudder's set wrong."<p>

xxx

"Too big."

xxx

"Too small."

xxx

"You call it a mast?! It's a rotten fence pole, not a proper mast!"

xxx

"Phew, plows like an old whale."

xxx

"More woodworms than wood."

"Anamaria, love, you know you're one o' me two black pearls, but tha's the sixth or seventh boat you reject within the year. I could almos' think, that you prefer—"

SLAP

"Ow..! Uh, right. Now I _know_ you prefer to stay wif me..." 


End file.
